


Here By My Side, A New Colour To Paint The World

by Cadensaurus (orphan_account)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Crossdressing, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-24
Updated: 2015-10-03
Packaged: 2018-04-23 04:05:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4862438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Cadensaurus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So one day, Phil walks in on Dan wearing a dress. And after a very confusing discussion, it comes out that Dan enjoys wearing girl's clothing in private. Phil lets it be known that he'd be fine if Dan wore it around him and slowly, Dan starts opening up and letting Phil into his private world. But what Phil doesn't expect is to start seeing Dan in a whole new way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm taking a break from writing the baby!fic to write this fic. I hope y'all enjoy it as much as you have been the baby!fic. :) *drolly* Let's see if we can keep this one to a less overwhelming word count. (hint probably not) (eta hey what do you know only 19K I didn't fuck up that bad)

Phil, as quietly as he can, enters the flat at half past noon, having figured he’d be out all day with errands to run but giving up when a migraine hit him so hard he’d had to duck into the nearest shop to frantically race to the loo and chuck his stomach contents, along with what he’s pretty sure was most of the acid inside it as well, into the toilet.

His throat burns and his vision is blacking out at the corners, dark dots swarming his eyes, he’s dizzy and thirsty and feels like shit and wants to lie down. He heads to the kitchen and, not letting the water slide down the side of the glass at more than a trickle, gets a drink of water and sips it unsteadily, head throbbing with each swallow; he pours out half the glass after swallowing only deems to make his headache worse, and presses gently at his temples with one hand.

It does nothing but increase the pain. All of him hurts no matter what he does. Any noise seems to crash thunderously through him. He wants to hurl again. So he creeps, slowly, unsteadily, to his bed and eases himself into it, under the covers, switching off his light and burying his face under the blankets for as much darkness as he can get.

He lies there, aching, head pounding, near-tears for how much pain he’s actually in because he rarely gets migraines but when he does get them, they completely annihilate him, and tries to focus on anything but the hurt inside his skull.

He can hear Dan in his room, doing something, and is about to call for him when his brain stops him just in time to remind him how badly yelling will be, noise-wise, and instead slowly teeters to his feet and heads to Dan’s room, to ask him if he can run to the store and get some medicine.

He doesn't knock, not sure just what level of noise will cause him pain and so just twists the doorknob, even as Dan yelps, “Wait!” and Phil swings the door open to see –

\- Dan’s standing there in a purple dress, clingy and with thin spaghetti straps, and barely coming down his thighs, plunging low to his mid-chest, revealing his collarbones and the loosest place the dress hangs is at his waist, where it bags slightly, presses up again where his hip bones lay a bit prominent underneath.

Phil stares speechlessly. Maybe he's dreaming. Maybe he did fall asleep and this is a dream. He rubs his eyes a couple of times, reaches over and pinches the crook of his elbow. It hurts. “I'm awake?” He almost asks.

“You know,” Dan says tremulously, his voice a little shaky, “that's a myth, pinching yourself. You can actually pinch in your sleep and not wake up and bruise.” He sounds and looks a little petrified. “Or you know, pinch someone else in your sleep.”

Phil nods, looking at Dan with his lower lip caught between his teeth. “Good to know.” He's not really sure how to process what he's seeing.

“Could you, ah, just … leave?” Dan asks. “Thanks.”

Phil backs out of the room. Well. His migraine was forgotten for about thirty seconds. It's back again and in a way, that's a good thing because it means thinking hurts and he doesn't have to try and over-process what he just saw.

He takes a thousand milligrams of paracetamol and goes back to his bedroom, curling up in a ball on his bed. It barely helps but it does help. He's not nauseated anymore and the pressure in his head eases up.

He can't be bothered to eat anything, lying in bed for hours, waiting for the pain to recede. Eventually, after what feels like forever but is only six hours, the migraine starts to dissipate.

When he gets up, still feeling exhausted even though he's literally just lain around for six hours, he chances eating something light, figuring he'll have cereal.

Dan's sitting in the lounge, staring at his computer with a frown on his face and when Phil sits next to him with his cereal, he doesn't say a word. He's wearing a black t-shirt and his skinny black jeans.

Phil eats wordlessly, glancing at Dan a couple of times. When he finishes, he puts the bowl on the table in front of him and then nudges Dan's ankle with his foot. “Hey,” he says softly.

“What?” Dan doesn't look at him, doesn't hide the snap in his voice.

“Hey, Dan, calm down.” In a way, it's a good thing that Phil didn't have the brains to overthink things before because he's kind of just accepted what he's seen. Maybe Dan was doing something for a video. Honestly, it wouldn't surprise him at this point.

“I'm calm.” Dan says, flatly. “See? Look at how calm I am.” He turns and looks at Phil and now he's expressionless.

“Yeah, I can see that.” Phil tells him, pointedly ignoring that Dan is not calm because Dan clearly is not willing to talk about what Phil saw. “You want to play a video game together?”

Dan stares at him. “What?”

“Video games. Feel like playing them? I had a migraine earlier but I'm feeling better now so you can pick and we'll play something.” Phil says casually.

Dan stares at him for a few seconds longer and then abruptly puts his laptop off to the side, stands, and walks out of the room. Phil hears Dan's door click shut a few seconds later.

“Ooo-kay.” Phil murmurs. “Not sure if I should go after him or not.”

  

He decides on going after Dan a couple of minutes later. This time, he does knock. Dan says, after a few seconds, “Come in.” He sounds huffy.

Phil enters. Dan's still dressed in his regular clothes and Phil does a quick glance around the room and sees no evidence of the dress he'd seen earlier.

“Okay, so. When you told me you were calm and then I asked you if you wanted to play a video game, I clearly upset you with that question?” Phil asks. He's genuinely confused.

“You're pretending like you don't want to ask.” Dan growls.

“Ask.” Phil blinks at Dan innocuously. Dan gives him a dirty look. “Dan, I'm really confused here.”

“I was wearing a bloody dress, Phil! I know you're curious!” Dan half-shouts. He's sitting on his bed and he tugs his legs up tight to his chest, wrapping his arms around them protectively.

“Actually, I wasn't going to ask anything. I figured you had some bit you were doing for a video.” Phil says honestly. “I didn't care? I mean, obviously I was a little surprised but... I don't care? You've done sillier things.”

Dan looks hurt here. “Silly. Nice word.” His voice is low, his tone sharp.

“Okay, I'm really confused. What am I doing wrong?” Phil asks.

Dan stares at his knees and shakes his head. “Nothing. Just... go. Go away.” Phil is definitely not doing that, however.

He closes the door behind him, leaning on it and looking at Dan. “Not leaving until you tell me why you're angry at me for not wondering why you were wearing a dress.”

Dan's silent and Phil waits, the silence hanging between them. He looks at his socks and counts the tiny giraffes printed on them. He's got fifteen that he can see on the front and sides on his left foot, sixteen on the right.

It kind of bothers him that they're not equal. Obviously when they're printed one had a little bit of a different pattern when it was made or whatever. But still.

“You're not going to go away, are you.” It's not really a question. Phil looks up to see Dan glaring daggers at him.

“Nope.” Phil shrugs and gives Dan a sympathetic smile. “You're stuck with me until you tell me why you're angry.”

“You called it silly.” Dan mutters.

“What?” Phil asks. “I called what silly?”

“Me wearing a dress.” Dan kicks out one leg on the bed, the other still held between his hands.

“What? No – I said you've done sillier things than wear a dress. Remember when we did the holiday disaster video where we showed how to prevent choking with PJ and Chris and you spanked Chris? Or the blindfolded make-up challenge?”

“Yeah, spanking someone is totally on the same level as a guy wearing a dress, Phil,” Dan glares. “Completely. And just – ugh, you know what, never mind.”

“Dan, come on. I don't know why you're so upset!” Phil says, trying to figure this out.

“Because you weren't supposed to see that! Nobody is!” Dan says in frustration.

“Wait, what?” Phil asks. “Nobody? It's not for a video you're making?” Now he's more confused.

Dan gives him a look, pissed off. “No. Why would you even think that?”

“Because you've stuffed your shirt to give yourself breasts and worn a girl's wig. I figured you were just, you know, going to the extreme for a video.” Phil answers.

Dan starts laughing now, shakily, almost like he can't help it or stop. It's not a happy laugh. It's a tired laugh, slightly hysterical. “Well, that's just about as good as I could have hoped for.”

“Dan, what are you talking about? Come on, just tell me what's going on. I'm your best friend, remember? You can tell me anything.” Phil crosses the room and sits on the bed, watching Dan pull his legs in towards himself again to decidedly give Phil more space.

Dan looks at Phil. He looks at his knees, then at the ceiling, heaves a long sigh, bites his lip, digs his thumbnail into the flesh on the side of his index finger, then stares directly in front of him.

“I was wearing it because I … because I like it.”

Phil takes this in and looks at Dan, then his closet, then back at Dan. “You like it. You enjoy wearing that dress?”

Dan says nothing for a good thirty seconds. “You wouldn't understand.”

“Dan, come on. At least let me try?” Phil asks. He's not judging. He'd be a complete arse to judge, given the fact that one, he's a fairly open-minded individual with a diverse range of friends who are part of the LGBT-plus spectrum, of colour and creed, and just in general of varied interests.

“Yes, Phil. I like wearing that dress. In fact, I have several dresses I like to wear. And two skirts, and a halter top. Nobody was supposed to know.” Dan looks like he's about to cry now.

Phil places a hand on Dan's knee gently. “Okay.” He squeezes gently. “Do you do it a lot?”

Dan shrugs. “No. I've only done it five times since I started. Half a year ago.” He still looks like he's fighting off tears.

Phil shifts on the bed until he's shoulder to shoulder with Dan, leaning against the back of the bed and puts an arm over Dan's shoulder. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No.” Dan sighs. “It's weird.”

Phil smiles at him gently. “No, it's not. It's not traditional, but it's not weird. It'd be weird if you wanted to bugger a sheep.”

“Don't be so fucking rational about it, Phil,” Dan grumbles.

Phil bumps his knee into Dan's lightly. “I'm being calm and accepting. Isn't this what you're supposed to do when you learn a friend's secrets?”

“You're just pretending.” Dan says. “You're pretending and when you leave you're going to judge me.”

“Dan. I'm not going to judge you. I've lived with you for four years plus now. You've been my best friend for basically six. Why would I judge you?” Phil asks him.

Dan doesn't speak and Phil casually dangles his fingers just over Dan's neck. “If you don't tell me, I'll touch your neck,” Phil teases.

“Do it and I'll punch your stomach.” Dan says and he's not joking at all. Phil pulls his hand back but Dan's gotten the message it seems, as he answers a second later.

“Because I like wearing that shit. I like putting on a girl's outfit. Because I was thinking about buying more colour-appropriate make-up the other day and was going to put it on.”

Phil nods, mulls it over. “Okay.” He doesn't say anything else. He just tugs Dan in closer to him, ignoring the way Dan stiffens under his touch, and rubs his hand over Dan's arm and shoulder until Dan heaves out a breath and relaxes slightly.

“You're judging me,” Dan accuses. “Make-up and girl's clothes. You're thinking I'm a freak.”

“I'm not thinking you're a freak!” Phil says and he can't help laughing a little. “Dan, come on. I'm thinking if you like wearing it, you should wear it.”

Dan glances at him from under his lashes, eyes guarded, not quite frowning. “You promise?”

“On my mum's life,” Phil tells him honestly. He catches Dan's hand and squeezes it. “I just didn't even think you were wearing it for any reason besides a bit for a new video.” It all comes together in his brain now. “And so you got pissed off because I insinuated it was silly! That's why you got all-” he wiggles his hand around.

“Yeah,” Dan says, but he's not looking quite as scared anymore.

“Oh, hell, Dan, I didn't mean it like that. I just meant you've done silly things in videos. I don't – if you like it.” Phil pauses. “If it means something to you... it's not silly.”

Dan kind of goes boneless a few seconds later, turning to curl against Phil. “Fuck.” He whispers. “It's all fucking complicated.”

Phil pats his back. “No, it's not. You like wearing it. Sounds pretty easy to understand to me.”

“Oh, come on, Phil,” Dan says. “If you saw a bloke on the trolley wearing a dress and make-up, you'd probably turn it into a story for a vlog.”

Phil pauses. Dan's right. And he hates that Dan's right because even though he's not judging Dan at all, it's because it's Dan, because he'd never judge Dan. If he saw some random guy, he probably would think something of it. Nothing extremely derogatory but he probably would think it weird.

“Okay,” Phil says quietly, agreeing. “I'm sorry.”

“So what's the difference between me and some random person?” Dan accuses. “When it comes down to it?”

“Nothing.” Phil tells him. “It's on me, that one's my fault, and I mean, I shouldn't think something of it. If someone wants to wear girl's clothes and they're a guy, they can. I'm a bit of a cock if I judge them.”

“But you'd judge them.” Dan says again.

“Well, I mean,” Phil starts. “I think now I might not? Because you called me out on it? Because I wouldn't have thought how crap that might be but … it's important to you, right? And I don't want you to feel judged so I shouldn't judge anybody else who does that?”

“Look, just. Can you go? I mean, thanks for saying you're not going to judge me but I just want to be alone right now.” Dan tells him. Phil doesn't think Dan really quite believes that Phil isn't going to judge him but he thinks he's pushed about as far as Dan's willing to open up tonight.

He gets up and lets Dan be, going to his own bedroom. He texts Dan, though. _Promise you, Bear. Not judging._ He hasn't used that nickname in forever. He hopes Dan gets the message. Dan's his best friend, his most intimate friend, to be honest, and he's not lying.

 

Two weeks pass before Dan even brings it up again. Phil's watching television with him and Dan, during a commercial, mutters, “If I were to theoretically go put on … an outfit...” he doesn't specify what, but it's clear to both of them. “And I wore it around you, what would you do?”

“Um.” Phil glances at him. “Nothing? Would you want me to do something?”

Dan doesn't answer. Instead he turns up the volume a little and slouches down further on the couch.

Phil watches him for a few seconds longer and then turns back to the television. He doesn't press it. He'll answer whatever questions Dan wants him to answer but he's not going to ask Dan anything. It's Dan's comfort levels that need to be assuaged, not Phil's curiosity.

 

Three days later, Phil's typing out the script for his next video while Dan showers. After about an hour, he's just finishing up and comes to realise that Dan's been in the same room as him, just silent and leaning on the wall behind him.

“Oh shit,” Phil jumps as he turns and spots Dan. “How long have you been there?” The words trip up over his tongue as he sees Dan's in a blue halter top that hangs just a little too short to completely cover his stomach and a black skirt that starts just below his belly-button and hangs past his knees, form-fitting, black lace on the bottom.

“Huh.” Phil says, tilting his head. “Hi.”

Dan takes a couple steps forward. He's got to walk more delicately than normal with how the skirt hangs tight around his thighs and it emphasises the femininity of the outfit.

Phil gets up and crosses over to where Dan is and touches the material of the halter top. It's soft cotton, with a circular ring of fabric around his throat instead of strings.

“Not all black?” Phil asks. He's trying to be cool about this because Dan obviously needs him to be cool.

“No.” Dan says softly. “I – um. I like colour when it's.” He shakes his head a little and looks away. “When it's not guy's clothes.”

“Makes sense. Purple dress, blue halter-top,” Phil says. He breathes in slowly. “You wanna do something together?”

“Such as?”

“Buffy?” Phil suggests, giving Dan a hopeful smile. He can never watch Buffy enough times.

Dan rolls his eyes. “You're going to get a restraining letter from Sarah Michelle Gellar one day, Phil.” But he reaches for season 3, where they left off last. “What were we on, episode nine? Or ten?”

“Ten, I think. We started it and paused.” Phil tells him.

Dan puts in the DVD and then settles on the couch next to Phil. He off-handedly tugs at the halter-top, despite it not being long enough to fully cover his stomach, and Phil shyly peeks at the inch of flesh between where the top ends and the skirt begins and the trail of hair on Dan's stomach.

He glances up at Dan's face. “I really do like the outfit,” he says. “If a girl wore it around me, I'd think she looked lovely.”

Dan looks at him. “Thanks, I think.” He starts to pull his legs up towards him, can't quite do it in the skirt without it stretching, so instead settles for crossing one leg over the other and wrapping his hands around his knee.

Phil doesn't say anything else about Dan's outfit and instead focuses on Buffy. It's surprisingly easy to forget what Dan's wearing and get lost in Buffy instead and after a few episodes have passed, Dan stands.

“Okay, I – I have to change. I think that's about as long as I can just be wearing this around you right now.”

“Okay,” Phil tells him mildly. “Well, I mean, if you want to wear something like that again, you can. I won't mind.”

“Just pause it for now, I'll be back.” Dan tells him. Phil does as Dan requests, going to make himself a sandwich. He's hungry. He makes a sandwich for Dan as well and when Dan comes back, wearing pyjamas, he hands over the food to Dan.

“Figured you might want something to eat,” Phil tells him.

Dan takes a small bite of the food. “Thanks,” he says, after a moment, as he swallows. “For … y'know, just letting me do that. Not judging.”

Phil nods at him. “Yeah, of course. Whenever you want.”

“Maybe I'll do it again,” Dan says cautiously. “I don't know yet.” But Phil thinks its a start, at least. Honestly, he wouldn't care if Dan wore something like that around him again. In a way, he hopes Dan does, if it makes him happy. Because it would make Phil happy to know Dan trusted him that much.

So he just starts the episode they're on and lets Dan get settled next to him again and they're quiet between themselves.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um. Just. Please forgive me for the mental image that's going to come in this chapter as I'm pretty sure a lot of you are going to enjoy it.

They go on tour for The Amazing Book Is Not On Fire and when they get back, somehow they've grown even closer than before. It's amazing, a month on the road sharing hotel rooms, re-telling stories about each other, and just in general the excitement of what they're doing, how much it can bring them together.

They take a few days to themselves after they get home, exhausted, and then one night, as Phil's half-asleep, browsing the internet at two in the morning, Dan knocks on his door.

“C'min,” Phil says, not really coherent, staring at a Wikipedia page on Howard Hallis, who apparently tried to draw a picture of every single thing in the world, even though the words are swimming together and not really forming meaning in his brain.

Dan enters and sits on the edge of Phil's bed and Phil instinctively moves over, letting Dan have more space.

“About … the thing.” Dan starts, words hanging heavy.

“What thing?” Phil asks. He's not even thinking about Dan wearing girly clothes or makeup because they haven't spoken about it in over a month.

“You know the thing. The clothes. That... I wear in private.” Dan stumbles out. Phil sits upright and sets his computer off the the side as his brain connects things again.

“Oh, that. What about it?”

“Would you … are you still comfortable with it?” Dan asks. Phil shrugs.

“Yeah, I suppose so. Nothing's changed. Are you?” He asks. Dan plays with a pill on his sock and Phil wiggles his toe underneath Dan's fingers as Dan drops his hand away.

“I mean, I'm not even sure I'm comfortable with it because it just feels so awkward. But I still want to.” Dan mumbles.

“So go ahead. In private, if that's where you feel safest.” Phil suggests. “Nobody can judge you if they don't see it and it makes you happy, right?”

“But I mean, you. If I were to do it around you. Are you still comfortable with it?” Dan asks hesitantly.

“Sure. Wear whatever.” Phil tells him. “I'll do my best not to judge you and if I do, you can yell at me or terrorise me with the Robert Pattinson mask when I first wake up or something.”

Dan offers a watery smile at that. “Okay. I just needed to ask.” He bites his lip and then gets up, leaving the bedroom.

Phil's not quite as tired anymore, the conversation having started him thinking about Dan and what Dan wants, and so he lies in bed, wondering if he can do anything to make Dan more comfortable.

 

Dan, as he and Phil are eating cereal and watching anime the next morning, mentions he's going to get dressed after they finish eating.  Phil doesn't know for sure if Dan's talking about his girly stuff but Dan comes out in a soft yellow cotton dress that has white ruffles along the bottom and across his shoulders.

"Oh, that's nice! Pretty!" Phil tells him. He's not sure if he  _ should  _ be telling Dan this, if Dan wants that, but he does anyways. Dan looks relieved and although he and Phil don't interact as much that day, Dan doesn't take it off until he gets ready for bed.

A couple of times Phil swings by where Dan is and thumbs the material between his fingers, commenting on the colour or feel and it's meant to help assuage Dan that he likes it.

Dan comes into Phil's room before he goes to bed and hugs him briefly. "Thanks for being so cool."

"No problem. Wear whatever around me." Phil assures him. Dan laughs a little.

"I have one thing that I don't think I could wear unless I had some bevs first." Phil wonders just how feminine it is, in that case, as the dress was pretty girlish and the halter-top and skirt weren't exactly low-key.

Phil doesn't know if that's supposed to be an offer but he does go out and buy Dan's favourite wine that week and one night when he knows Dan has nothing going on the next day, he pulls it out.

"Liquid courage. For that outfit. If you want." Phil stumbles over his words a little. Dan chuckles nervously and opens it, pouring half the bottle in one go into a glass. He stares at it and then takes three long gulps, finishing about half the glass right there.

“Doesn't mean I'll put it on, even if I do drink all this,” Dan mumbles. “Just said alcohol would help. Not sure it'll be enough.”

Phil pours a drink of his own to at least maybe put Dan at ease, rum and soda. “Well, if you don't feel comfortable enough, don't worry. It can just be us relaxing.” He tells Dan. 

“Okay,” Dan says, sounding more relieved. They wind up playing  “Call Of Duty Black Ops III” together for a while, Dan finishing off (and almost knocking over in an accidental thrown arm as he sits down with the second glass) the wine and Phil nursing his second rum and coke. 

While Dan goes to wash out his glass and throw away the wine bottle, Phil sneaks in “The Avengers”, figuring that something easy to watch will keep Dan comfortable, no matter what happens. 

By the time Dan comes back, he's got a different glass and he says, vaguely apologetically, “I'm stealing some of your rum and soda,” to Phil. Phil shrugs. He doesn't care, really. For all the cereal of Dan's that he eats, Dan probably could drink most of his rum and theoretically Phil would still owe him. 

Dan immediately perks up when he sees what's on screen. “Good pick,” he says appreciatively. He settles into his crease of the sofa, Phil giving him a wide berth in case he almost spills the drink again. 

“Oh come on, Phil, I'm not going to do that again,” Dan tells him with feigned annoyance in his voice. 

Phil grins at him and just takes a swallow of his drink. When Dan takes a sip and cringes slightly, Phil lifts an eyebrow and leans over, sniffing Dan's glass. 

“Jesus, I know it's called rum and soda, but you do know it's supposed to have more soda than rum, right?” Phil pokes fun. “Here, want me to add a bit more Coca-Cola?”

“No, I need this right now,” Dan mutters. “I'm … I've decided I'm going to put on the outfit but right now I need this.” 

Phil reaches over and squeezes Dan's knee. “You don't have to do anything you don't want to, Dan. You don't have to force yourself to wear it in front of me.” 

“I know,” Dan says. “I just... I've worn it in private before. Once. I bought it online and tried it on the day I got it. I kind of feel like I should wear it around you because it's about as feminine as I want to get with the clothes and, um – well, you'll see, I guess. I just figure if I can wear it in front of you, then I'll be okay with anything else.”

Phil looks fondly at Dan. “You're braver than you know, Dan,” he tells him. Dan gives him a look. 

“Don't go getting sappy on me, Phil. I don't want pity, remember?” Dan says and before frustration can creep into him, Phil waves at him with his hands. 

“It's not pity. It's respect. How many people would never even try this sort of thing out?” Phil asks. “In private, let alone in front of their friend?” 

“Yeah, but I have to get drunk to do it,” Dan mutters, sounding aggravated. 

“So what?” Phil asks him. “You're not getting drunk and doing something illegal. You're not getting drunk in public to handle social anxiety. You're drinking to relax your inhibitions for something you want to do and are nervous about and it's just me you're with. Drinking doesn't automatically equal bad, even if it's meant to lower your inhibitions.” He's being as rational as he can because he has a feeling that Dan needs that. 

Phil  _ knows _ if the roles were reversed that Dan would probably not be able to be this rational and he'd probably be freaked out as hell. So he's going to keep things as calm as he can for Dan. 

He keeps watching Dan flinch as he drinks and eventually he insists on mixing the drink a little bit more with soda, simply because he doesn't want Dan to end up being sick and that logic, at least, works with Dan.

When he returns, Dan's not in the living room anymore and Phil wonders if he's using the bathroom after having had all that wine. Sure enough, he hears the click of the bathroom a minute later, but it's not Dan leaving. 

After another minute, he realises that Dan had just gone into it and so he waits patiently, the movie paused. After five minutes, he calls Dan's name, wondering if Dan's okay, if Dan  _ is _ being sick to his stomach. 

“I'll be out in a bit,” Dan says. He sounds fucking terrified. Phil knows instantly what's going on. 

“I'll be right here,” Phil replies in as soothing a voice as he can manage. He plays on his phone for about twenty minutes and then hears the bathroom door open. He doesn't twist to look at Dan immediately – instead, he waits until Dan is standing next to the couch. 

“Hey,” Phil says as he looks up. Words stop there because he honestly needs time to process what he's seeing. Dan's hair is styled mostly the same, though his fringe is spread just slightly across his forehead more. 

He's wearing a pale blue tank top with thin straps that cling to his body, lace edging along the neckline and the bottom, and it exposes at least three inches of stomach before it gets to the mini-skirt he's wearing, which would be short to begin with but given that he's 6'3”, shows off his legs like Phil can't even believe. 

His hips just barely peek out from under the skirt and Dan's wearing matching dark blue stockings that come just over his kneecaps. 

“Wow,” Phil gets out. “That's quite the outfit.” Dan stares at him with big eyes, obviously terrified that Phil's going to say something negative, and Phil pats the couch. “Sit,” he says softly. 

When Dan sits down, Phil leans in and looks at his face. “Oh my gosh, you're wearing makeup?” He asks. He hadn't even noticed, so focused on the outfit, but Dan's eyes are lined with purple-blue eyeliner and he's got gold eyeshadow on and his lips are just subtly more pink, a little glossy, and his fucking lashes, which are long to begin with, he's obviously wearing mascara because they look like they're about twice as long now. 

“Yeah. I mean. I don't want to – don't get the wrong idea, Phil. I don't want to be a girl. But this outfit just looks … wrong without makeup?” Dan says. “It looks half-arsed.” 

“You look, honestly, stunning. Like,” Phil can't stop staring at Dan. Dan looks delicate in the strangest way. He still looks like Dan. He still looks masculine, with his flat chest and no curves, the way his collarbones lie under the skin, the line of hair on his stomach. 

Phil glances at Dan's legs again under that short skirt and blinks a few more times. “Wait, Dan – have you shaved?” 

Dan lifts his arm and indicates the lack of hair there was well. “I shaved my legs and under my arms. I felt weird doing my stomach.” He ducks his head down and wraps his arms around himself, pulling into a ball on the couch. 

“Dan, relax,” Phil tells him. He actually needs Dan to relax because he's on the verge of freaking out simply because his brain cannot actually handle this – Dan looks so masculine in his usual Dan way, but he suddenly is dressed up in a way that would have Phil, if it was on a woman, absolutely stunned, and he reaches out, fingers shaking slightly, touching Dan's smooth legs. 

“Is it weird?” Dan asks. Phil lets his fingers run over the skin. 

“No – it's... I mean, do you like it? You had your legs waxed by Louise that one time.”

“I mean, besides it bloody hurting like all fuck, it felt nice afterwards.” Dan agrees. “So I figured I would be smarter this time and just shave, instead of wax.”

Phil cringes. “Imagine waxing your armpits.” Dan's face contorts into one of absolute horror and he actually slaps Phil's shoulder. 

“Do  _ not  _ imagine!” Dan cries out. “I don't want to. I don't even want the imaginary pain in your head aimed my way. Jesus christ, Phil, I'm not into sado-masochism!”

Phil laughs a little at that. Somehow, Dan looks more like himself. Now that Phil's getting past the initial shock of what Dan looks like, now that Dan's acting like himself, Phil's brain is calming down. 

Still, when he looks at Dan's face, he wonders just how uncomfortable Dan is wearing makeup. 

“Do you want to wear makeup?” Phil asks, curiously. “I mean, you said you felt like the outfit didn't look right without it but do you actually want to wear it?” 

Dan squirms and Phil can see him flushing, his cheeks and the front of his chest turning a slightly darker shade of pink. 

“I felt really uncomfortable the first time I put it on. But then I tried it on just a little bit at a time and … added more as I went? Like, this is fifth time I've worn it? The first time was too much, but then I tried just eyeshadow and mascara, and then I added eyeliner, and then lipstick by itself? This is kind of the culmination?” 

Dan's babbling a bit but Phil lets him just get all his thoughts out. “Did it help doing it that way?” Phil asks. Dan nods. “So... you do like wearing the makeup?” 

Dan's tongue flashes out and swipes his lower lip and then he bites his lower lip, looking worried. Phil stares at that lip, pink and full. He almost doesn't hear Dan answer. He definitely doesn't comprehend what Dan says until he realises that Dan's asking him a question. 

“Does that make me even weirder?” Dan asks and he drags his lip further back, worrying it between his teeth. 

“No, Dan, no,” Phil manages to get out. “Dan, you have to stop worrying about what you enjoy doing in the privacy of your own home given that, again, this isn't illegal.” 

A question occurs to Phil. “I don't know if I'm allowed to ask this but … do you get off on this?” 

Dan is quiet for a very long time. The movie is still paused and Phil stares at the screen, waiting for an answer. “If you don't want to answer, you don't have to,” Phil adds. 

“No, it's – um. It's not … sexually a thing? It's hard to explain,” Dan tells him. “I don't get turned on getting dressed up like this. I don't think I could wear this in front of anybody but you? But at the same time, I kind of want someone to appreciate it on me? So it's really hard to justify because I don't want to wear it in front of anybody but I want the appreciation that I look nice?”

“Nice? Or sexy?” Phil asks. Dan mulls that over for a second. 

“Maybe something in between? Aesthetically appealing? But it doesn't have to be like, it makes me want you naked, just, I enjoy looking at you in this?” 

“Okay. Well, that clears up a lot,” Phil says. He's quiet now and thinking things over. “Don't take this the wrong way but, ah, is it okay if I stare at you for a minute while I try and get my brain all organised and figure out what I'm thinking about this outfit besides it's a nice outfit?” 

“Yes, Phil, feel free to make me feel like an animal on display at the zoo,” Dan tells him sarcastically. “I mean, look at me if you have to, but it's not exactly a great feeling to have someone just look at you and not talk.”

“Well, then can I look at you and talk out what I'm thinking?” Phil asks. He rakes his gaze over Dan's entire body again quickly, then focuses on Dan's face. 

“Go on,” Dan says, making the matching motion with his hand at Phil. 

“When you walked out, I literally was speechless. It looked like you but it was like... it wasn't like if you were a girl. I didn't think, 'Oh, this is what Dan would look like if he was a girl or if he had a sister', but I couldn't actually get my brain to wrap around how feminine you looked and masculine at the same time.”

Dan's quiet as Phil talks and his face is so neutral and Phil's hoping to god that he doesn't say the wrong thing.

“And then you sat down and I saw your makeup and it was the same thing, like, you've got an obviously masculine face. I mean, it's not overly-masculine – if anything, you've got kind of delicate or androgynous features, but it's not a girly face. And it looks really good on you, like, your eyes are just, fuck, I can't stop staring at them with your lashes and the gold brings out the brown in your eyes and so does the purple eyeliner and-”

Phil's talking too much probably but he has to get it out so that Dan understands. He's really terrified of what he's going to say next because it's about the clothes and that's what Dan's probably really insecure about if he needed to drink to put them on. 

“And just, wow, I mean, if you want someone to appreciate how you look in those clothes, I'll, um. I'll give you that. The top is really pretty but like, um. This is going to sound so weird but Dan, you've got these long legs because of how tall you are and the skirt shows it off and the stockings just emphasise that and it's like, holy shit, if you were a girl, I'd probably be drooling. And the fact that you shaved just makes it even more … wow.” Phil shoves his fingers through his hair. “That's everything, I think.”

Dan reaches forward and sips on his drink, clicking play to start the movie again. He doesn't talk. It's like he's processing whatever Phil's said and isn't ready to answer yet. 

Phil swallows his own drink, wondering if he did say something stupid. He really, really hopes not. 

Finally, about ten minutes later, Dan speaks. “Thanks for being honest. You looked like someone was holding a knife to your throat the entire time, by the way.” 

“Well, I didn't want to say the wrong thing!” Phil protests. 

Dan peeks at him and Phil swallows his drink the wrong way because Dan's fringe falls just into his eyes, which are long-lashed and a little heavy-lidded, and somehow Dan looks  _ good _ and Dan offers him a small smile. 

“You didn't say anything wrong. You said a lot of things right, actually.” Dan tells him softly. “I appreciated it.” 

He keeps his gaze trained on Phil, that same gentle smile, sweet gaze, and Phil can't get his brain to sort things out because something's different, he's seeing Dan differently, and he can't figure out how, but it is messing up his brain and so he smiles back until Dan looks away and then lets out the breath he didn't know he'd been holding. 

He definitely isn't going to tell that to Dan. He thinks that might be weird or it'll freak out Dan that Phil's looking at him differently because he knows for sure that Dan doesn't want Phil to look at Dan  _ differently _ , he wants Phil to look at Dan like he's the same old person that he's been living with for four years, and if Phil can't even put into words how he's seeing Dan differently, he definitely isn't going to risk telling Dan that. 

It seems that now that Dan's wearing his outfit and they've gotten all their words out in the open, he doesn't need to keep drinking, and so once he's finished off his current drink, he sets the glass off the side. 

Phil doesn't bother getting more either, having been mostly drinking it for Dan's benefit, to match him and make Dan feel more comfortable. Plus, well, given the fact that his brain is not entirely coherent around Dan right now, he's pretty sure more alcohol and him would not get on swimmingly well. 

Phil can't stop peeking at Dan's stomach, at his legs and thighs, at his collarbones and neckline, his long bare arms, remembering that they're bare underneath, at the just feminine way Dan's fringe lies. 

He can't stop looking and he does it as casually as he can, just barely turning his head enough to flash a glance at Dan and take it in momentarily and then drag his gaze away before Dan can pick up on him looking. 

_ Why can't he stop looking at Dan?  _

He really needs to figure it out and then  _ stop _ _ it _ . His brain is distracted by Dan and Phil's pretty sure this isn't good. Actually, he knows it's not good. For whatever reason that he can't stop looking at Dan, for whatever reason somehow he's seeing Dan differently now, he does not want to figure out why because it's going to end up screwing things up. So he just fights it every bit of the way. 

Eventually, Dan stretches out, crossing his ankles, and his skirt slides down a little as he does and Phil glances over just at the right moment for everything in his brain to stutter to an absolute stop and holy god does he need a drink immediately. 

“Dan.” 

There's no calm to his voice. Phil's voice almost cracks as he speaks and Dan looks at Phil. Phil swallows hard. The words get stuck in his throat as he tries not to look at Dan's hips again. 

“Phil?” Dan asks. He looks neutral, almost a little curious.

He can do this. He can do this, he  _ has  _ to do this. If this is part of what Dan's wearing, then he probably should bring it up. 

“Please feel free to punch me in the face if I shouldn't bring this up but … you're not wearing boxers, are you.” Phil's not asking. He knows the answer. 

Dan's face is no longer neutral. “... no. I mean, I wasn't going to exactly show this off but you can't exactly wear boxers under a mini-skirt, so...” 

He stands and tugs the hem of the mini-skirt down just a bit more and Phil sees the line of panties, white and thin, thin enough that he can actually see the faint peach of Dan's skin underneath them.

“Um. This is the only pair I own. I just … I bought them when I tried on the skirt and then realised you could see my boxers underneath and it was so embarrassing.” Dan explains. 

Phil tries not to think of Dan's legs completely bare under that skirt, of the fact that those panties are obviously form-fitting and outlining Dan's arse and he should not be picturing Dan's arse right now. 

“Well.” Phil gets out. “I guess you have a point there. I just – you moved and I saw them and I didn't know if I should bring them up.” 

“It's, yeah. It's … I mean, I guess it's not a big deal. It's not like you're going to be seeing them as a general rule so I wasn't going to show them off.” Dan stammers. 

Phil's not looking at Dan anymore, he's focusing on the television again, but there's no way he's not going to be able to stop thinking about Dan wearing panties any time soon and he is inexplicably curious in a way that isn't innocent but, quite, in fact wanting to see them and this can not be happening, _ he can not be wanting to see Dan in panties _ . 

So he keeps his stupid, traitorous mouth shut throughout the rest of the movie and pleads guilty to needing to have a shower and then go to bed early because the alcohol's made him tired, and he reaches over to hug Dan carefully, wanting it to not be too affectionate but to let Dan know he's glad that Dan was able to, again, wear what he wanted in front of Phil. 

Except Phil gets pulled in tight to Dan, who mumbles into Phil's skin that he's really,  _ really _ grateful to Phil for not making things weird. Except Phil's face is pressed against Dan's neck and chest and he can feel the brush of the lace hemming of the top is touching his jaw and his fingers are gently pressed against Dan's stomach between them and he can't breathe at all right now because apparently his brain has just forgotten completely how. 

So when Dan lets go, Phil tries to, as casually as possible, suck in a breath to get air back to his brain and restart it and nods and heads to the shower where he makes a point to put it on cold, to try and clear his head. 

There's just too much going on upstairs in his brain and he needs to sort it out and he doesn't know if he can. When he lies down, he thinks he's going to be okay but then Dan knocks at his door to say goodnight, and when Dan comes in, Phil's inundated again by Dan in a fucking mini-skirt and stockings and that little lace top thing and almost elegant makeup and the fucking knowledge that Dan's in panties and any clarity to his thoughts is completely wiped out. 

So Phil stammers out a goodnight and Dan shuts off the light as he goes and Phil's left with that image burning behind his eyelids as he lies in bed. He can't stop thinking about it. It gets to the point that he deliberately has to try and replay the Avengers in his head, to put new images there, to get his mind off things. 

It takes Phil a very long time to fall asleep that night.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awwww snap what's that is it time for flirting? ;) With Dan in a pretty red dress that flares out when he spins? Yus I think it's that time.

Nothing happens for another couple months. Dan wears the yellow dress once more around Phil but that's all. No makeup, no clingy blue lacy tank tops and mini-skirts that obliterate Phil's brain and make him try to figure out how the hell he's seeing Dan differently.

Phil thinks he might be doing it in private, because a couple of times when he goes to do laundry, he finds Dan's laundry in the dryer and spots the halter top or the purple dress.

He brings it up a few days after his twenty-ninth birthday. “Things going well? Still wearing your clothes you like?” He asks, smiling at Dan softly.

Dan's tucked up into a ball on the couch, laptop balanced on his knees. “Yup,” he answers, not bothering to look up. “We're all good there. Figured you didn't really want to see me in it a lot though, so I've been doing it in private.”

“Oh, come on, don't worry,” Phil tells him. “You can wear it around me. Promise. You've done it three times now and I was very comfortable each time.”

He ignores the curl in his stomach that tells him that he kind of wants to see Dan in another outfit. He particularly ignores the way his brain helpfully supplies the mini-skirt again, a flashback to thighs and calves, and Andy Grammar pops in his head, _it's been a long night there and these long, long legs are damn near everywhere_ , and thanks, Andy Grammar, for so helpfully summing up exactly what it is about that mini-skirt that had done Phil in for that evening.

For his birthday, PJ had bought Phil some strawberry margarita mix and Chris had helpfully supplied the tequila and so Phil's relaxing, playing some Sims 4 on his own – not Dil, a new character he's started named Hope Springs, because if they're going to have characters like Eliza Pancakes and Summer Holiday, he's going to make a cliché character too.

He's spent the last hour making Hope Springs and building her house and he goes to pour himself another drink when Dan bumps into him and he's got something red slung over his arm and a handful of tubes and compacts and it takes Phil a second to realise it's a dress and makeup.

“Oh,” Dan says. “Was gonna, um.”

“Yeah, go on,” Phil says encouragingly. He smiles. “I'm just in there playing a game. You can come show it off when you're ready if you'd like. Or in private if you don't want me to see.”

Dan nods and then disappears into the bathroom. Phil goes back to his game, hears Dan taking a shower and singing to himself, just loud enough that Phil can make it out to be “All Star” by Smash Mouth and somehow, he's glad some things will never change.

After a couple renditions of that song, Dan switches to Imagine Dragons, an off-key version of “Radioactive” and Phil puts on his headphones so he doesn't have to hear it, listening to Hope Springs talking her garbled Simlish as she attempts to make scrambled eggs and burns them, dropping the salt shaker in the pan.

Well, since he didn't give her the clumsy trait, it's nice to know it might not be entirely Dil's fault that he sucks completely at cooking half the time.

He doesn't hear Dan turn off the shower and instead props his chin in his hand, leaning forward as he stares at the screen and his brain kind of shuts off as he guides his Sim through the mindless series of activities, getting up and getting a banana and munching on it while he pours his third margarita.

God, these are good. He knocks on Dan's door. “Hey, want a drink? They're really good margaritas.”

“Uh, sure, I'll make it myself though. Kind of not entirely dressed right now, so don't come in.”

Phil does as Dan requests and leaves everything out in the kitchen for Dan to mix on his own, going back to his room. He hears the blender a few minutes later and then Dan's knocking on his door, entering without letting Phil answer.

Phil glances up from the computer, having resumed his lazy chin in hand position, mouse clicking around the house as he makes Hope organise things.

Dan's wearing another dress, bright blood red with black designs of stars and crescent moons in black, with black tulle on the bottom of it, a silk black ribbon tied together in the front in a small bow. Dan's also wearing matching lipstick that somehow makes his mouth look fuller, more bow-like.

Dan takes a couple of steps inside Phil's room, barefoot, but he's shaved again, Phil can see that much, and as he gets closer, Phil can make out green eyeshadow and black eyeliner around Dan's eyes and yeah, he's wearing mascara again, with those long lashes blinking slowly as he waits for Phil's assessment.

Dan's entire complexion seems a little more smooth and he wonders if one of the compacts had, what is it, foundation?

Dan purses his lips and then one of his front teeth catches on the lower one, dragging it just slightly and his lips are so freaking red and full that Phil can only focus on that for a second until his lip slides free of the snagging tooth and Dan's giving Phil an expecting expression now, wanting a response.

“I like the pattern on the dress,” Phil finally announces. “It's kind of like, dark hipster meets trendy. You know, with those stars and moons and stuff.”

Dan shifts his weight and then he actually twirls, he spins in place and the dress lifts and the dress was only mid-thigh length anyways but now it exposes all the way underneath and Phil sees that there's no boxers which can only mean one thing and his brain kind of fuzzes again, remembering white panties.

“It flares,” Dan says, a little delighted. “That's my favourite thing. It's like, playful.” Phil's never seen Dan act like this. It's almost like the clothes tap into a part of Dan that he never knew existed. Dan would never have described clothing as “playful” before.

“So it does,” Phil agrees. “Um. No boxers,” he adds helpfully and Dan purses his lips again, looking only briefly repentant before smiling a little.

“Well, no, but you can't see the, um, panties even when I spin, right? So no need to call attention to them.” Dan answers.

“So are you a fan of short dresses too?” Phil asks.

Dan frowns a little. “No, this is supposed to be mid-length but I mean, I guess it's kind of hard to actually get a mid-length dress when you're a hundred and ninety-three centimetres tall.”

 _These long long legs are damn near everywhere_ , and yes, shut up, Andy Grammar, once is enough today.

Phil's trying to figure out just why he can't stop staring at Dan right now, why he keeps going between the red lips and the red dress that fits Dan almost too well and his legs and back up again, and finally he manages to get out, “Well, you look really nice. I like it a lot.”

Dan gives him a one-dimpled grin at that and exits the room and leaves Phil to continue playing Sims.

 

However, he doesn't leave him alone for the entire night, just a couple of hours. He hears Dan make a couple more drinks during that time and he even brings Phil a fresh one at one point, winking and Phil flushes when Dan does that.

Phil brushes his teeth after the last drink, puts away everything, changes into Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle pyjama pants and a black t-shirt and goes to play Crossy Road, because it's still funny to hear himself as Emo Goose.

He's relaxed and not really thinking too hard, definitely on the verge between tipsy and drunk, when Dan comes into his room and sits on Phil's bed next to him, sprawling out and leaning on his elbow a second later.

He's still, interestingly enough, in the dress. And full makeup. If anything, it looks like he touched up the lipstick and eyeshadow.

“So out of all the outfits, what's been your favourite so far?” Dan asks.

Phil mulls it over for a second. “Um. I think the thing you wore when we were drinking last time. The mini-skirt and tank top. I think the colours just complimented you better. The makeup too.”

 _I think the colours just complimented you better?_ Where the hell had that come from. Phil's not a freaking fashion guru.

“So you don't like this dress?” Dan asks and Phil doesn't know if Dan's teasing him or not. “Or this makeup?”

Phil can safely say that he does like it. He likes it in a different way. It's stark and shocking and while the other outfit slid inside his brain and made him stare at Dan because he couldn't figure out why, at least now he can say he's staring at Dan because it's so bright and obvious.

Though he shouldn't really be staring at Dan either way, should he?

Dan props his chin on Phil's shoulder. “Well?”

Phil realises he never answered. “Oh. I like this outfit too,” he hurriedly says. “I mean, it's just different. This looks more like you're ready for, I don't know, some fifties ballroom dance marathon when that other thing was more like, 'hey, let's go clubbing,', I don't know, what do you want me to say?”

He kind of wants Dan to not be so absolutely near him right now because now he can feel the chiffon of Dan's dress just touching his arm.

His fingers reach forward and touch the tulle, rubbing it between themselves. It feels weird, light and scratchy at the same time, and Dan flops out on his back a second later and unties the bow around his stomach.

“This is the only thing I don't like. It makes it a little clingy to my stomach, the ribbon,” Dan says.

“I like it,” Phil says, stupidly. He likes the way the dress fits around Dan's body. Why the hell does he like just how Dan looks in a dress? Why does he want Dan to wear more dresses around him? That can't be normal, right?

Dan pauses and then smiles a little, something that's too dark to be playful, too knowing to be casual. “Want me to wear it again some time?”

“Um. If you want.” Phil thinks his voice might be a little higher than usual, a little tense.

“Well, I told you. I like wearing it but it's not exactly unwanted to get aesthetic appreciation from someone and you seem to like it so...” Dan trails off. And then, for whatever reason that can only be running through his head, he bats his eyelashes and manages to hold Phil's gaze for a few seconds while Phil tries frantically to think, before he bursts into laughter.

“I'm sorry, Phil, but your face. You look so utterly panicked. It was too good not to resist.”

Phil kind of wants to punch Dan's arm. He kind of thinks Dan looks too pretty to punch in the arm so he settles for grumbling and rolling onto his stomach, pushing his face into the pillow.

“Stop making fun of me.” Phil mumbles.

Dan pats the back of his knee, right where calf meets thigh. “It's just a little too easy when you're busy freaking out on me.”

“I'm not freaking out.” Phil argues. “You don't freak me out.” He doesn't want Dan to think he's freaked out by Dan wearing those outfits because he's really not. If anything, he's a little too comfortable with them.

“Well, you're certainly something by this,” Dan tells him. “But don't worry, I don't feel judged or anything. I feel okay. Good. Comfortable.”

“Good,” Phil repeats. “Yeah. I'm gonna head to bed soon, so, um.”

“Ah. Good night, Phil,” Dan says cheerfully. He gets up and Phil hazards a glance at how the dress falls against his thighs and Dan sees him looking, goes and does another twirl, making it flare. “It's cute, right?”

“Very,” Phil agrees because that much is true. “Hit the light when you leave?”

Dan does at that and there's the end of that night and thankfully, Phil's too tipsy to spend the next hour in bed thinking about Dan's outfit like he did the last time Dan wore something that flashy around him.

 

A few days later, Dan's cooking them dinner and Phil's in the kitchen, getting a glass of water, and Dan turns as he sees Phil come in. He's wearing just a black t-shirt and his skinny black jeans that hang eternally low on his hips, never not failing to expose his boxers.

Except as Dan stretches up to reach a plate off the top shelf of a cabinet his shirt lifts and Phil sees white and then Dan bends over the grab a pot from a cabinet underneath the counter and his jeans slide down and Phil stares.

He stares because Dan's not wearing makeup, Dan's not wearing a dress or a skirt or anything feminine but Dan is definitely wearing panties and they're just as slightly see-through as Phil remembers from last time, he can see the pale flesh of Dan's body, the way they cling to the curve of his rear, and Phil can't breathe.

When Dan straightens, fingers automatically going to hike up his pants, setting down the pot, he turns around and looks at Phil. “You okay there, Phil?”

Phil is not okay.

“I'm fine,” he says, snapping his eyes away from Dan's hands, Dan's waist, back to Dan's face. Dan's face is something between innocence and surprise and confusion and Phil smiles at him shakily. “Just fine.”

“Pasta will be ready in about fifteen minutes.”

Phil has to ask. “So, uh, do you. Wear those a lot? Your jeans kind of were doing that thing they do and I got a glimpse of, um. The panties.”

He's stammering. He sounds like an idiot. Dan's expression is shifting now, smiling and his smile is just a hair on the side of something knowing again and Phil needs Dan to not have that smile on his face.

“No, I've never worn them just like this before. I just kind of was doing an experiment today.” Dan tells him.

“What, seeing if you like them instead of boxers?” Phil asks, voice starting to come back to something akin to normal for him.

Dan holds his gaze for a fraction too long before glancing back at the pasta he's preparing. “No, not seeing if I liked them,” he answers. “Something else.” He doesn't expound upon that and Phil doesn't ask.

Phil does, however, get up and head for his bedroom and locks the door behind him. He's speechless. He's still got the image of Dan's arse covered by form-fitting panties in his brain.

And he's completely stiff in his own jeans.

This is possibly the worst mess he could have gotten himself into. He knows Dan's bi-curious, that he's fooled around in the past with Chris a couple of times, sloppy handjobs that he'd admitted to Phil, needing to tell someone, and that's the furthest that Dan's gotten with a guy.

But Phil's straight. Sure, he's answered he was bi on his Formspring years ago, back when he was trying to be scene and cool but no, he's not. He was just lying then.

Phil really wants to think it's just the fact that Dan's wearing girl clothes whenever his brain shorts out and he stares. That maybe, just maybe, he's thinking of Dan as a girl.

Except Dan was definitely not wearing anything remotely girly except for those bleeding panties today and Dan's bum is not curvy in the way that female bums are but Phil can't stop thinking about it.

Suddenly Phil isn't sure he wants to know what kind of experiment Dan was doing. Somehow, he has a sneaking suspicion it has to do with Phil himself.

He sits on his bed and waits until he's no longer hard as a rock in his pants and thinks about beige carpeting and fuzzy squirrels and absolutely everything non-sexual until he hears Dan calling him.

“Phil, dinner's been ready for ten minutes. Your food's gone cold, do you want me to heat it up?”

“I'll be there in a minute,” Phil shouts back. He doesn't think he can face Dan right now. There's no way he can face Dan knowing that Dan's in panties.

Hell, he's not sure if he's going to be able to face Dan any time soon because Phil's now forced to face the very startling fact that he's attracted to his best friend and kind of wants to see Dan in a skirt and makeup but more than that, he kind of wants to be touching Dan in that, feeling skin, maybe kissing Dan.

He stops his brain there. No. Stop. He'll just lie to Dan and tell him that while it doesn't weird him out, Dan doesn't have to wear the clothes in front of him anymore, that now that he knows aesthetically, he looks good, he can do it in private where he's comfortable.

He'll lie to him and he'll stop having this weird beginnings of what feels like a crush on Dan and everything will go back to being completely normal.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More of the emotional variety, this chapter. :P

Phil is completely prepared to tell Dan exactly what he thought about the night before. He goes into the lounge with full intention of saying, “Dan, while I appreciate you feeling comfortable with me, you said you prefer wearing those clothes in private, so you don't have to do it around me anymore,” and then he can get this weird, fleeting attraction to Dan out of his head.

He goes to but Dan's sitting on the couch with his laptop, knees bent to the side so he can rest the laptop on it, and Phil stares because Dan's wearing a t-shirt but he's not wearing pyjama pants or even boxers.

No, he's wearing black panties with green polka dotted trimming and there's writing on them and Phil can barely make it out because Dan's shirt hangs just above it and Dan's sitting partially on it, but he thinks, he's pretty sure, it says  _ pinch me  _ across one of the cheeks. 

“Da-hwah?” Phil chokes out, starting Dan's name as he sees it and he can't even believe what he's seeing. Dan looks up and meets Phil's eyes and there's an extended gaze between them, as Phil internally freaks out and his brain mocks him.  _ Dan is in panties, Dan is sitting around wearing just a t-shirt and panties, you're staring at Dan and you were going to tell him to stop wearing that kind of stuff when right now your tongue is sticking to the roof of your mouth because you're having a heterosexual crisis. _

Dan doesn't cover up. He doesn't tug his shirt down. He watches Phil and only after some time has passed does he stand up. “Want some coffee? I need some more. I can make you some.”

Phil definitely refuses to look down because if he looks down he might see the outline of panties around Dan's dick and he has no idea how his brain will even react to that. In fact, he thinks he might panic and bolt out of the room.

“No, don't need coffee,” Phil stammers. “I gotta – I can't, um. No.” He can't do this. He needs to get out of this room. He regrets walking in it at all. He has to get Dan to stop wearing those clothes in front of him. 

There's no polite way to say it. There's no polite way to make it known that Phil needs Dan to stop wearing it because his excuse was flimsy and Dan could call him on it. If he says he's not comfortable with it, then he's betraying Dan and he's a goddamn liar on top of it. If he admits he likes it a little too much, then he's also risking betraying Dan, who said it wasn't a sexual thing for him, and he's being too honest with himself than he's ready for.

He always thought he was an accepting individual. He's been fine with having friends who weren't straight. He never thought anything of it. Now, faced with the very real knowledge that he's actually attracted to his roommate, he's feeling very close-minded in that he's freaking out.

He can't say anything. He's stuck. He's stuck and Dan's staring at him and it's becoming clear that something is wrong between them now to Dan and his gaze is darkening.

“Too much for you?” Dan asks. 

“The clothes?” Phil asks. Because it's really not – somehow, he's able to comprehend that it's not the clothes that are doing this to him, it's Dan in those clothes, except he thinks Dan out of those clothes would also be doing it to him now, that had he walked in on Dan wearing his regular pyjamas, he might still have had a dizzying moment of wanting Dan before stuffing it down. 

No, the clothes just help temporarily derail his brain long enough for it to put together thoughts that help undo one of the most essential things he's thought he's known about himself since he became actually physically interested in people.

Dan shakes his head. He keeps his gaze locked on Phil. “I'm not stupid, Phil.”

“I never said you were,” Phil says. He thinks he sounds rather stupid right now. He's got his fingers gripping his shirt behind his back and pinching, folding the material, nervous and taking it out on the hem of his poor shirt.

“I'm twenty-five almost. I can kind of tell when someone's looking at me in a more than friendly way. Especially someone I can practically read perfectly without trying given that they live with me and they're my best friend.” 

Shit shit shit. He is not ready to get called out on this.

“I have no idea what you're talking about,” Phil lies. “Just was surprised by the clothes.” 

Dan gives him a look, almost angry, and casually juts his hips to the side as he puts one hand on his waist, the other pushing through his hair. He doesn't lose his gaze on Phil's.

His movements are obvious enough, meant to emphasise what he's wearing, meant to let his shirt ride up enough to show off one hipbone, meant to elicit a reaction from Phil.

It works. Phil's lips actually tremble and he becomes inexplicably furious with Dan. “Don't,” he warns. He takes a step backwards, back towards the hall. “I'm not.”

Dan coughs. “Well, if you want to say so. Wasn't going to say anything but you might want to talk to your junk about that.”

Phil pretends he doesn't know that he's hard right now, that while he's not flagging his sweats, it's probably obvious enough that there's an outline of his dick that Dan can easily see.

“Just morning wood and what the hell are you doing looking anyways?” Phil mutters back, angry. This is not okay. Dan wasn't supposed to do this, he wasn't supposed to get in Phil's brain and he definitely wasn't supposed to make Phil deal with it today or ever.

“Wasn't exactly looking. Kind of hard not to notice though, when you come in the room fine and suddenly I can see out of the corner of my eyes that your sweats there are getting all tight.”

“No offense, Dan, but keep your eyes above my waist, thanks.” Phil orders him. “And just, do me a favour. I appreciate that you feel comfortable enough with me to wear your clothes around me but you said you prefer it in private and you know at least I think you look aesthetically nice and  _ that's it _ ,” he emphasises those words hard. “So you can just wear them in private from now on, if you'd like.”

It's meant to sound like a suggestion when it's not one and Dan knows it just as well as Phil.

“Aesthetic my fucking ass,” Dan shoots back. “Aesthetic doesn't lead to staring like you've been. Again, not stupid and not blind.” 

Well, at least this is one true thing that Phil can tell Dan. “I swear, Dan, it's not the clothes.”  _ Not anymore, _ _ anyways _ . 

“Oh? So you're saying if I just was in whatever I normally wear, you'd stare at me like you were this morning?” Dan asks, tone dry and flat. 

Phil can't answer that. He won't because there's no way he can admit the answer is probably, yeah, now that he's seen Dan and Dan's crawled into his mind, he thinks he's going to be noticing Dan's eyes, Dan's mouth, the smooth flat skin of Dan's stomach, picturing Dan's thighs whether he likes it or not.

Dan doesn't wait for an answer. He's the one to storm out of the room, leaving Phil standing there, terrified. He has to get out of the apartment and away from Dan.

He winds up ringing a friend and going over there and they get lunch and then they go back to his friend's place and play video games and he doesn't think about Dan except for most of the afternoon and he gets tangled up in his thoughts.

Because if he doesn't sort this out with Dan, then it's going to sit between them like an elephant in the room and screw with their heads.

Not when it's something that obviously is as intimate a thing between them, that Phil's attracted to Dan and lying about it.

Because it'll eat them both alive and muck up their friendship and the longer it goes on the less they'll be able to talk about it and then Dan will stop coming to Phil for advice about other stuff and then after a while, he'll just stop coming to Phil for anything, and given a year from now, they might not even be Dan and Phil anymore, they'll just be two people who might be forced to not live together because it's so uncomfortable and that, that train of thought right there, is enough to convince Phil that sorry, sucks to be you, Phil, but it's time to stop lying to yourself about your one hundred percent heterosexuality and face facts and go talk to Dan about this.

When he gets home that night, he doesn't see Dan. Dan's door is locked when Phil tries it. He knocks and there's no answer.

The next day, Dan ignores him. He doesn't leave his bedroom except to eat and he avoids Phil and when Phil tries his door again, it's always locked. Phil writes on a note,  _ I want to talk _ and slides it under Dan's door. 

He still doesn't get a response.

He forces himself to stay awake until three-thirty when he hears Dan brushing his teeth and going to bed himself and he doesn't think he finally falls asleep for an hour after that, brain too busy worrying even though his body is physically exhausted.

He's absolutely thrilled, then, to be woken to Dan tapping his shoulder hard and saying, “Wake up,” and he knows as he wakes up, the groggy, gritty feeling of sandpaper behind his eyes and the weird heavy almost-headache that presses into his brain of exhaustion, that he's not gotten nearly enough sleep.

He groans and rolls on his side and grapples at his phone, finding it and turning it on, blearily reading the time.

“What?” Phil grouches. “Why are you waking me up at six minutes past eight when you have spent the last day and a half avoiding me?” 

“You wanted to talk.” Dan informs him. “I can't sleep so you're going to talk.”

“Well, I could sleep if you'd have let me.” Phil complains. “We could have talked when I woke up and wasn't in such a pissy mood.”

“We can both be in shitty moods then,” Dan tells him flatly. “Now sit up and put on your glasses and we're talking.” 

He's not going to go away, that much is apparent. So Phil sits up and finds his glasses next to him and fumbles them on and blinks a few times as the world focuses. He glares at Dan.

He means to glare at him. Dan's looking extraordinarily frustrated and he's half-glaring himself at Phil.

Instead, Phil, after the initial two seconds of not being in the mood for this, finds himself scrutinising Dan, staring at the softness of his features. He's not mad at Dan, really. He's not happy about being woken up at this early when he hasn't slept, but he's not mad at Dan, per se.

Dan, even when he's got a frustrated, flat expression on, has brilliant brown eyes that are expressive enough, at least to Phil. They're saying, as they stare at Phil,  _ do you have the guts to talk about this _ ? 

Phil decides it's easier to just give up the ghost now than play around it. “Okay. Everything's all mucked up and you know why.”

“Yeah, apparently me in women's clothing is a massive turn-on for you.”

Somehow, that floods Phil with relief that Dan doesn't totally get it. Somehow, that makes it worse, that he has to explain that no, it's not women's clothing, it's Dan all by himself. The clothes just emphasise every single thing about Dan that makes Phil stare.

After all, if Dan didn't wear that mini-skirt or that dress, how else would Phil have noticed his legs? Or worn the makeup that brought Phil's attention to Dan's eyes and mouth, or a top that showed off his hips and stomach in a way that was decisively distracting?

He stares at Dan, almost disappointed that Dan's wrong because now he actually has to explain. He flops out on his back again, stares at the ceiling. “You're definitely wrong about that.”

“I'm wrong? The whole you staring at me every single time I've put them on is just all made up in my mind?” 

Dan leans over Phil, pushing one hand on the blankets next to Phil, and somehow, Phil's Sunnydale High t-shirt has gotten appropriated to be Dan's at some point and that's what Dan is wearing, along with matching blue sweatpants, and Phil reaches up to snag a finger into the fabric of his shirt.

“I'd like this back at some point,” he requests, to defer the conversation that they're having. 

Dan rolls his eyes. He yanks off the shirt and drops it unceremoniously on Phil's chest. “Have your shirt back,” he mutters.

Phil really wishes Dan hadn't done that. Because now Dan's shirtless and Phil wants to look and this would actually be a hell of a lot easier if they weren't so physically close right now. Because at least the clothes would have justified wanting to spend time with Dan and kiss him if it was the clothes.

But it's not the clothes, it's Dan and Phil just never saw him before the way he properly should, he never took in all the way Dan's body was actually  _ really _ _ freaking hot _ . 

“At least you don't get it,” Phil murmurs. “I swear to you that you're wrong about it being the girl clothes that I was staring about. I don't care about you in girl clothes.” Well. Okay, maybe he's lying. Maybe a little bit of him cares about Dan in panties, but that's a conversation that he can have another time if –  _ if –  _ they get out of this one without a huge blowout. That's the only bit of girly clothes that he actually cares about seeing on Dan. And really, it's not about the panties, it's about the way Dan's arse looks in panties.

Dan flounders, he's flustered by this response. “So what did you want to talk about then?”

Phil stares at his ceiling. He rubs at his eyes under his glasses, exhausted. “I wish we could have done this when I had enough sleep to form functioning thoughts,” he mutters.

“I wish I was able to sleep at all last night,” Dan tells him. “I'm running on fumes now. Energy from the day before. Maybe three coffees since six this morning.” His voice is harsh. 

Phil focuses his gaze on Dan. “I wish you weren't looking at me like that,” he says quietly. He doesn't want Dan's anger on him. He didn't mean for this to happen. “I didn't plan on getting all screwed up over you.”

Dan's gaze softens but only just. “How'd you get all screwed up over me if it's not girl clothes then?” He chases Phil's last applicable statement.

“Just... I mean, it was the clothes but it wasn't.” Phil bites his lip. If he explains this, he's not going to be able to pretend that he's not blatantly attracted to Dan. He has to explain how the clothes made him see Dan and now he can't see Dan the same way whether or not he's wearing girl's clothing.

“I know I'm more 'articulate' between us, Phil, but are you even trying?” Dan asks. Phil kind of hates Dan at this second. He squirms under Dan's gaze. 

Phil sits up and places the pillow on his lap and stares at it and starts to talk. “I didn't plan on getting all screwed up over you,” he repeats. “But in the end, it's not the clothes. It never really was, I guess. I don't know how to explain it. Just – has someone ever done something that makes you see them completely differently? Don't answer that, by the way, just let me get this all out.”

Dan remains silent under Phil's request. “Like, I wanted you to be comfortable,” Phil starts. “You came out in the halter-top and skirt and you looked really nice and I didn't freak out. I didn't think anything of it. Then you had on the summery yellow dress and that was pretty but I didn't think anything of it. I don't know, then, we were drinking so you would be able to wear your outfit that freaked you out the most.”

“It doesn't freak me out. I just didn't feel comfortable wearing it in front of someone really. I still don't.” Dan does interrupt him there. “Let's get that straight. In private, I mean, yeah, I blush when I put it on, but I like it.”

Phil swallows. “Okay. I'm sorry for getting that wrong. But anyways, you came out and the outfit just emphasised you. Like, the makeup brought out everything in your features. The top was so short and it showed off your stomach and your hips and your legs are like, way longer than the skirt would allow for so it was basically all you could see, anyways, compared to that skirt,” and he definitely doesn't bring up the panties right now.

“So I just kept staring at you because, I don't know, it was like I'd never really noticed those things about you before. Then I couldn't stop thinking about them. Then you were wearing that red dress and it was really pretty but again, it showed off your legs and it was kind of form-fitting and made your stomach and hips noticeable. And that makeup was even more enhancing than the stuff you'd originally worn, all your features went from 'Dan' to just so much more.”

Dan's looking confused. “So how is it not about the clothes?” He sounds kind of angry. Kind of weary, deflated, like he doesn't have the energy to maintain that anger. Phil wonders how tired he is, if he hasn't slept all night.

Phil shifts over in bed. “Lie down,” he orders. “I'll keep telling you if you lie down. You're tired and I feel bad because it's my fault.”

He twists to face Dan, who kind of sprawls out on his back and wraps an arm backwards under his head and stares back at Phil.

This is where Phil's going to slip. This is where words don't come together in his head right anymore, because he's still not sure why it all means what it does or how it happened. Words aren't as tangible here as the twisting feeling in his gut when he sees Dan, as the way he feels now, looking at Dan looking at him.

It doesn't make sense to say he wants to just lean in and brush his mouth to Dan's and see how it feels, but it would make a hell of a lot more sense to Dan, Phil thinks, if Dan could feel the sudden need in Phil's stomach, the distractedness of his brain by Dan's eyes or the way his collarbones just press under his skin, leaving Phil wondering if Dan's sensitive to touch there.

“I guess it never really popped in my head unless you were wearing the clothes because I'm so familiar with you but then I couldn't stop thinking about you. But even out of the clothes, I mean. Like, right now,” Phil flushes. “You just look good and I don't know how to take that.”

He thinks it might click with Dan then, the way Dan's mouth opens slightly before he closes it a second later. “The clothes were what made me see you like that but I still see you like that without the clothes. All the time now,” Phil mumbles.

“I thought it was the clothes,” Dan says quietly. “Because you reacted that way when I just had on the panties under my jeans and then two days ago when I was in the lounge.”

Well, crap. They're talking about everything, apparently. Phil groans, pulls a kneecap up to his chest, presses his forehead into the hard bone there. “Okay, maybe it's about ten percent of the clothes but. It's still about how you look in them, not the clothes.”

“How do I look in them?” Dan asks curiously. He yawns. “You shouldn't have told me to lie down. I'm so tired, Phil.”

The anger has definitely deflated out of him from sheer exhaustion. There's faint purple shadows under his eyes. Phil wants to just postpone the rest of this talk and let them both sleep.

He wants to tuck up the sheets and blankets over Dan and kiss his forehead and he knows Dan likes to be the big spoon so he'd let Dan be the big spoon and he'd curl up with his back to Dan's chest.

Or maybe he'd face Dan so that when Dan woke up, when they both woke up, he could be looking at Dan's eyes when he woke up.

“You have a nice arse,” Phil states bluntly. “That's what it comes down to. They look good pulled taut around it. It makes me want to stare at it when I see that. None of the other clothes do that.” 

Dan lifts an eyebrow. “Just the panties? What about my legs in the mini-skirt?”

Phil shrugs. “If you were wearing your boxer briefs I'd probably still be staring the same way.”

Dan watches him and then he's squirming under the bed and shuffling and Phil figures it out, hates Dan a little more. Dan kicks the sheets off as he kicks off his sweatpants and he's lying in just his underwear.

Yeah. Phil stares at his legs. He stares at his stomach and hips and his legs and he even goes ahead and stares where Dan's not hard but his underwear are still tight enough to show off the slight bulge and he kind of wants to touch all over Dan's body.

“You are staring the same way,” Dan gently accuses him. Phil shrugs. 

“Warned you,” he answers. He makes his gaze come back up Dan's chest to Dan's face. “Your eyes, too. The mascara and stuff made them all nice to look at but I never really noticed they were nice to look at before and now I do.” 

Dan definitely gets it now. Phil finishes up before Dan can talk. “Do you know how scary it is to think you might not be straight?”

Dan turns onto his side and reaches over and pats Phil's thigh, resting his hand there. “Went through that with Chris a bit, remember? So yeah, I do.”

“Oh. I didn't realise you had feelings for Chris. I just thought it was like... drunken fooling around.” Phil falters.

Dan furrows his brows. “No, it was. I mean, I never had feelings for him. But it was still scary to think about another guy being the one actively touching me.”

Phil can imagine. He's scared right now by how much he wants to be touching Dan. He tries to turn it on himself, to think about Dan touching him. His pulse quickens and a shiver runs down his spine.

“Not sure I'd agree on the scary to think about idea,” Phil mumbles without meaning to. When he opens his eyes, Dan's peering at him, almost smiling. 

“Thinking about it right now?” Dan asks. He's more serious now, the smile disappearing quickly. At Phil's shy, almost shameful nod, he continues, “With me?” and Phil swallows all his words down that want to come out. 

He nods again, stares at a point above Dan's head, stares at Dan's fingertips curled just to the side of his hair. Tries not to focus on Dan's hand still on his thigh.

“So basically, if I've got this right, is I looked good in the clothes and then you got a crush on me because of it.” Dan sums it up so much more neatly than Phil had expressed it. Phil almost miserably nods yet again. “I guess if we're busy talking about things still, I might as well talk a bit too.” 

He blushes here. Phil watches him fidget, he goes red in his cheeks and actually flushes across his chest. He says something so fast, pressing his face into his pillow, that Phil can't understand it.

“No idea what that was,” Phil tells him. 

Dan looks petrified. “I might have been intentionally wearing the panties the last two times. I thought it was the girl clothes that you liked.”

He drags his face back to the pillow. Phil can still hear him talking though, muffled. “I wanted you to be looking at me like you just were.” His voice is so quiet in the pillow, soft like his skin looks under Phil's gaze, and Phil looks at Dan's hand on his thigh.

He wants to reach over and squeeze it. Instead, he places his own hand just next to Dan's, tips his fingers just enough to brush against Dan's. “Definitely looking either way,” Phil has to admit. “Scary as hell. I'm straight, I thought.”

“I'm … I mean, Chris was the first guy I was attracted to. The only one.” Phil deflates for a moment. “I mean. Until now. You said it was like, ten percent about the clothes. Why can't it be like, ten percent not-straight?”

Dan has a point there.

“Can I lay down?” Phil asks. Dan nods and Phil carefully stretches out and Dan's hand falls off his thigh as he does, and then Phil and Dan are side by side staring at each other.

Phil looks at Dan. He looks at the sweep of his hair across his face, the brown of his eyes, the delicate features of his face. He sighs heavily. “So, I'm kind of all talked out, I think. I don't know what else to say.”

Dan nods. “I think I'm done too.”

“We okay?” Phil asks. Dan offers a wry smile.

“Yeah, we're okay. I think things might be interesting between us now though.”

Phil feels his pulse quicken again. “Now that we've...” he pauses. “Admitted that we're attracted to each other?” He asks.

Dan looks up at him almost shyly. “I mean, I know I'm not going to be able to sit next to you without thinking about other stuff.”

Phil knows that feeling all too well right now. He still would like to touch Dan, to kiss him. “I'm all talked out,” he repeats. His fingers slide across the sheets and touch Dan's thigh and slide up it, come to travel across his side and ribs, palming firmly so it doesn't tickle, and he even goes as far as to run his hands through Dan's hair, which is soft to the touch.

It doesn't scare him as much, this. He looks at Dan, face to face still. “I don't think it could be anybody else but you that made me think the way I'm thinking,” he comments.

Dan shuffles closer, shifting across the bed. “Go to sleep, Phil. We'll talk more later. When you've got the brains to think.” So even though it's more than half-past-eight in the morning, even though he's probably going to end up waking up at three in the afternoon, Phil closes his eyes and takes off his glasses and he feels Dan press into him, thigh to thigh and arm to arm and it's not so scary at all to have Dan there.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey if you want plot development of relationship go read my other phanfics so far, “Pretty Odd (Things Have Changed For Me), "A Map of My Heart and Mind", and “Capricious As Thunderclouds Above Us”. :P I kind of wanted to wrap this one up on a sexy way and I gave you forty pages of plot up to this point :P :P (and ten pages of porn whoops)

They talk. They talk a lot over the next week. They talk about what to do and Phil talks a lot about heterosexuality and Dan talks a lot about heteroflexibility and they flirt, of course, because it's inevitable that they don't.

Dan kisses Phil first. He kisses him slow and soft and sweet and Phil only panics a little after it's done. Then he leans back in and kisses Dan in return until his head spins and he goes dizzy with want.

So he takes a leap of faith, after a week of talking. He asks Dan on a date. He takes him somewhere familiar and safe, out to Starbucks, where they both sip their caramel macchiatos nervously and share equally awkward smiles, until Dan knocks his ankle into Phil's and Phil links it, and they sit staring at each other, rubbing ankles and blushing, and Dan's the one to come out with it.

“Ah, hell, Phil. Just – d'you wanna try being boyfriends?”

Yes, Phil kind of does. He nods and sips his coffee urgently, needing something to do with his mouth because otherwise he's gonna say something stupid. They've been saying a lot of stupid things around each other, sappy stuff that Phil doesn't normally do and neither does Dan. He doesn't want to say it in public.

So they start to date. They fumble around in bed – Dan knows a little better than Phil does and handjobs are easy enough. Phil knows how to jerk off and so does Dan and they figure that out without too much blushing.

It's a week after they've first started dating and Dan is in the office, working on a video, and he's been working for a good five hours without stopping besides to grab a bag of crisps and a cup of tea.

Phil heads up the stairs to see him and gently removes one headphone from Dan's ear and kisses the lobe. “Hey,” he says. They're good at this, casual romantic. They kind of discussed how long they've already been this close.

Dan yawns. He yawns so wide that his jaw cracks a little and Phil flinches. “Come take a break,” Phil offers.

“Come take a break and do what?” Dan teases. “I'm still tired from this morning.” Phil had actually been jerking off Dan in his sleep and Dan had woken up right before he came and had rolled forward as his brain put things together, come across Phil's hips and stomach, and then, pretty much destroying Phil's mind, used that to stroke Phil off, messy and slick and fast.

Phil's stiffening just thinking about that. “Come on, let's have some fun. You can relax.”

Dan eyes Phil up and down. “Well, I did have something I wanted to try,” he admits, letting Phil pull him back away from the computer.

Phil kisses him and they stumble their way down the stairs, still kissing – Dan trips and almost knocks Phil down with him and Phil catches his balance long enough to keep them upright before he hits the wall and trips himself and he does drag Dan down with him and he's lying on the floor for a second before he busts up laughing.

“We're really such graceful people,” he comments. Dan's pressing him down in the hallway and kissing him again, shutting him up, and Phil manages to pull them both up until they get to the lounge and Dan sprawls Phil out on the couch.

He pushes up Phil's shirt and mouths his way down Phil's stomach and then he's tugging down Phil's sweatpants and Phil watches as Dan sinks on his knees, flashing a heated gaze at Phil.

“Figured it was time to explore a bit more,” Dan says easily. His eyes are nervous though and Phil wants to pull him back up and kiss him until Dan relaxes.

Dan's moving forward though, pressing his mouth quickly to the top of Phil's thigh before tugging down Phil's boxers as well.

Then there's warm heat around Phil and it's been so long since this has happened last that Phil instinctively bucks up into Dan's mouth as Dan seals his lips around Phil, closing and sucking, tongue sliding wetly along Phil's erection. Phil runs his hand over Dan's hair and through it and his hips and legs are off the couch, Dan supporting them with his arms, resting on either side of Phil, as he focuses his actions on what he's doing to Phil with his mouth.

Phil closes his eyes and he loses himself in Dan's mouth. Later on, he returns the favour, once he's gotten his brains back together.

It's awkward and slippery and just like the first time he went down on a girl, he isn't sure he's very good at it or knows remotely if he's doing it right and it tastes kind of funny, but Dan seems to enjoy it well enough.

The first time they have sex is after they've spent over two hours lying in Dan's bed just casually making out and grinding and Phil's so hard it hurts. Dan's been intentionally holding them back, swatting Phil's hands away from his body every time they get too grope-y, even as he rubs himself right up against Phil and utters whiny moans at the contact.

He's being a cock-tease and it's all meant to drive Phil crazy, so that when Dan murmurs against the shell of his ear, “Kinda wanna feel your cock inside me,” Phil's too overwhelmed to do anything but say yes.

Dan's got condoms and lube – apparently he's gone shopping at some point since they hooked up, and he rolls a condom on Phil, slicks up his hand with lube and then slicks up Phil equally so.

Phil's fingers catch on Dan's hips as he lifts up Dan's legs around his waist and leans in to kiss him, breathing into Dan's mouth to let him know if it hurts.

It has to hurt – it has to be uncomfortable. Phil thinks that, anyways, based on the groan that Dan lets out when he first pushes inside, and he goes slow and careful until Dan hooks a leg around Phil's back and actually pulls at him as Phil thrusts and forces Phil to go as deep as he can get inside.

“Don't have to be so gentle, Phil. Not gonna crack from a little roughness.” Dan pants out. He's arched up underneath Phil, rocking his hips, meeting Phil's movements, and they've got an off-beat rhythm that slowly comes together until it's not off-beat, it's Dan rolling his hips up at Phil's thrusts and letting Phil sink all the way in.

It's hot and his head thrums with sharp tangy need and pleasure and Phil bites his lip hard to stop from coming, so hard that it almost draws blood, that when he releases it when he can no longer hold out, only a few seconds after Dan's shuddered and clamped down tight around him and he can still, afterwards, half an hour later, feel the indent of teeth in the flesh of his lip.

Phil's almost eager to bottom for Dan, to be honest. To let Dan show him what it's like, to see if he enjoys it like Dan seemed to enjoy it.

Dan, for his own part, is obvious when he wants to try it out a couple of weeks later, somehow more sarcastic than normal, almost skittery, and Phil catches him and calls him on it and Dan kind of stubs his toes into the carpet and murmurs, “Was thinking about maybe pulling you into bed later and trying something new.”

Phil, who has over the last two weeks, rapidly been forced to come to terms with his minor bisexuality, tugs Dan in to kiss him. “If we've got the same idea, I'm down for it.”

Dan, of course, chooses that moment to say, “Okay, I'll bring the banana suit, you bring the geese,” in an attempt to divert his own nervousness and Phil rolls his eyes and calls him a pillock.

He expects it to hurt. He honestly thinks it must. But Dan takes his time. He uses his fingers, which Phil has never used on Dan, and it's weird to have fingers inside him, it feels weird, but it's going to feel just as weird to have a dick inside him, he muses to himself.

He notes to start using his fingers on Dan though, because when Dan's got two fingers three-knuckled deep inside Phil, Dan makes a strange, strangled, noise and utters, “Fuck, you look good like this,” and Phil doesn't get it until Dan pushes a third finger inside, drizzling more lube as he goes and hisses out, “You look so good stretched out for me,” and then Phil definitely gets the appeal, the mental image searing into his brain.

Three fingers doesn't hurt – it's weird and uncomfortable, but it doesn't hurt. There's so much lube that it's too slick to hurt and when Dan pulls back, Phil feels surprisingly empty until Dan's climbing back up on the bed and bending Phil's legs, keeping them open, putting on the condom and even more lube and the bottle's more than half-empty when they only got it not even a week ago.

Whether that's a testament to Dan's libido or Dan's liberal usage of it tonight, Phil's not sure, but he's so busy thinking about it that he's not thinking about whether it'll hurt when Dan pushes inside him. Dan's lining himself up and sinking inside and Phil sucks in a breath as Dan slips into him.

It doesn't hurt. Not at all. Three fingers were wider than Dan's dick, though they didn't have the same fullness. It's a stretch and it feels so wholly different from anything he's ever felt, but it doesn't hurt. He arches up off the bed and meets Dan, pushing back until he can feel Dan's thighs flush against the back of his, until Dan grips his hips tight and squeezes.

“Eager,” Dan breathes. Phil definitely is that. When Dan reaches down and wraps a slippery hand around him, he twitches and shudders and squeezes tight around Dan until Dan groans and starts to move.

Dan's got barely more self-control than Phil. He curls forward onto his elbow and kisses Phil and thrusts deep, still using his hand to jerk off Phil until Phil is moaning on every motion into Dan's ear. Phil's never made these kind of noises before, sharp, hungry noises that come from a place of wanting to be filled up again by Dan every time he pulls back.

Dan admits that he jerked off earlier in the bathroom so he'd last longer, he whispers it in Phil's ear as he's working into Phil, holding Phil's hips so hard that they bruise later on. He whispers how tight Phil is around him, how hot, and apparently Phil isn't just into panties on Dan, he's into Dan dirty-talking him, because when Dan murmurs, “You sound so good begging for more,” Phil feels it hit him, sharp and sudden.

He comes, and it feels incredible, coming while being so full. It's like heaven and when Dan comes a minute later, Phil can actually feel it, can feel the small pulsing sensation of Dan's cock.

When Dan slides out of him breathlessly, Phil decides he wouldn't mind if Dan did that to him every single day. Especially the dirty-talk as he fingers Phil senseless. When he expresses as much, Dan starts laughing, pressing his face into Phil's chest.

“How the hell did you go so long thinking you were entirely heterosexual?” He teases Phil until Phil tickles him and Dan yelps, until Phil covers Dan and holds him down and goes on with what he was doing until Dan's twisting and speechless save for his cries of “Uncle, I give!”

The topic of girl clothes isn't breached for a bit. Not for another couple of months. Dan still wears them. Phil catches smears of makeup at the corner of Dan's eyes or mouth or a dress in their laundry but Dan keeps it private.

It's a little over three months into their relationship when Dan enters the kitchen and Phil's making them breakfast. Dan peers over Phil's shoulder and looks in the pan. “Eating vegan with me this morning?” He asks.

“Just easier to use one pan,” Phil tells him. He doesn't mind the taste. He's used to it now. “Drinking almond milk with me?” he returns, calling attention to his mild lactose-intolerance.

Dan shrugs. “I'd be drinking almond milk anyways, even if you weren't lactose. Vegan, remember?”

He kind of rolls his hips against Phil's and nips at Phil's ear and Phil rocks his head back, leaning into Dan. When Dan slides a hand up Phil's shirt, Phil pre-emptively grasps for the burner under the pan and turns it down.

“Cooking, busy cooking,” Phil gasps. “Unless you enjoy burnt Redwood bacon,” he says, referring to the brand of vegan bacon they've come to take as an acceptable borrow to actual bacon.

“In that case, I'll just leave you to it,” Dan informs him. “Here, let me help you,” and his voice is light and just the wrong side of playful that Phil shivers and watches him, knowing something's up, as Dan stretches, more than he needs to, wearing an overly long t-shirt, to reach a pair of plates, and Phil catches the hint of green and black polka-dots.

He has a sudden knowledge, a flashback to what Dan's wearing, and his inhale is obvious. Dan turns, smiles placidly. “You okay, Phil?” He doesn't bother pulling down his shirt, leaving the lacy hem of panties exposed on his hips.

Dan's in nothing but a t-shirt and panties and Phil's going to possibly pass out from the sudden lack of blood flow to his brain as it all goes southwards.

“Dan,” he gets out. Thankfully, in the last few months, he's managed to learn how to handle what he's thinking. His ability to dirty-talk, though, is nothing compared to Dan's.

“Is it pretty?” Dan asks him. Phil's mouth dries up and his tongue goes slack and he can't fucking breathe. “Me in panties? D'you want to get inside me like this?”

Phil sucks in a breath, harsh, and it almost hurts his chest for how deep he breathes, and then he just plain switches off the burner because he needs, he absolutely needs. He doesn't even know what he needs until he's dropping to his knees, shoving up the oversized t-shirt and mouthing at Dan's cock, already hard, in soft cotton panties.

Phil takes his time. He kisses every inch and drags his mouth over Dan and keeps Dan's dick confined in the panties, dragging his tongue wetly over the fabric, tasting precome, licking at the tip where it just peeks out over the edge.

Dan moans. He stutters his hips into Phil's touch and his fingers reach down and tangle in Phil's hair. He's never bothered to be quiet during foreplay and he moans while Phil builds him up.

Phil's fingers dig into the soft flesh of Dan's arse, through the panties, he pushes them aside and rubs a finger over Dan's hole without actually entering him, just toying. Dan leans back, hissing. “Please,” he utters, a throaty, low request.

“Not yet,” Phil gets out. “Later. Gonna build you up and make you so close and then make you sit in those panties, leaking out precome, and then once you've calmed down, I'm gonna fuck you.”

He's summoning all his courage and summoning every bit of dirty-talk knowledge that he's learned from Dan in that time. It seems to work because Dan's knees actually start to buckle as Phil swipes his tongue across the head of Dan's cock again.

“You're cruel,” Dan accuses. “Have I mentioned I hate you?” Phil eases just the tip of his finger, dry, into Dan, pulls back, and Dan shudders.

“I believe you completely,” Phil lies. Dan shudders again as Phil presses back inside, goes straight to where it'll make Dan moan, rubs over his prostate and bites Dan's hip and Dan whines, whimpers, makes a choked noise, and Phil pulls back again.

“Pull up your panties, they're sliding down. You look like a wreck,” Phil informs Dan gently as he rocks back and gets to his feet. Dan pants, his mouth open.

“I can't believe you're leaving me like this,” Dan complains. Phil's washing his hands so he can continue breakfast, pretending like Dan isn't pressing up into his back, rolling his hips, wanting more. “You're not really going to leave me like this, are you?” Dan asks.

Phil smiles at him benignly. “No, of course not. I'll help you out later. I told you I would.”

Dan stares at him, eyes wide and full of want, and he might actually be something close to pouting if it weren't for the fact that he was a twenty-five-year-old grown man.

“Three slices of bacon or four?” Phil asks. Dan gapes at him. “Just wondering. I actually like this brand so I'll eat the extra slice if you don't.”

Phil's true to his word. He makes Dan eat breakfast. He makes Dan go work on a video, sitting in the same room and casually stroking himself a couple of times, intentionally, so Dan can see it, can watch the way Dan responds while in the chair, squirming.

He waits through lunch and dinner, making them a late night cup of coffee around seven, and Dan's on edge, taking the cup and sipping it too fast, kissing Phil and trying to get his hands under Phil's shirt and Phil catches his wrists.

“Not yet,” Phil tells him. “Soon.” He's going to implode, personally, if he doesn't fuck Dan soon, but it's incredibly enjoyable to work up Dan like this.

“Fuck soon. Fuck _you_ ,” Dan shoots back. Phil blinks a couple of times and lifts an eyebrow.

They exchange a wordless conversation. _Come on, Phil._ Dan begs with his eyes and mouth and hands, kissing Phil again, sliding his hands back under Phil's shirt. “Been all day,” he mouths.

“Show me your panties,” Phil whispers back. “Bend over for me.” He can't believe he's saying this. It's like he's gotten all of Dan's dirty-talk in his head and it's coming out of him in one go.

He wonders if it's too much for Dan until Dan fairly purrs, “You'd like that, wouldn't you?”

In response, Phil catches Dan and kisses him and pushes him back against the couch, pushing Dan until he goes on his stomach. “Yeah, I really would,” he mouths into Dan's back.

He tugs off Dan's shirt and then Dan's in just pretty black panties with their green polka-dots on the edging and the cursive script that reads, _pinch me_.

“You wore these to work me up,” Phil accuses. Dan shrugs and Phil slides a hand down to palm Dan's arse, pinches solidly right where it says to. Dan hisses and his hips jerk forward.

“It's been a while,” Dan admits. “You're still into them, I take it?” Phil actually starts laughing in the middle of a kiss, sputtering noises into Dan's back where his mouth lays.

“No. Not at all.” If Dan's going to be sarcastic, so's Phil.

“Need you inside me, Phil,” Dan grits out. “Please?” He's lying face-down on the couch and Phil's hands are on his hips, pushing tight the fabric of the panties around Dan's arse, so Phil can see the outline of curves.

Honestly, Phil can't deny him any more. He's been just as wanting all day and forced himself to wait. “Lube's upstairs,” he mutters. “Got a condom down here though.” It had fallen out in a hurried breaking opening of the box they'd bought and they'd never bothered to move it upstairs, just stuffing it in a drawer.

“Go get it then. Don't need lube, just use your spit,” Dan tells him. Phil's brain swims. They've never done that before and it's going to be so tight, he knows.

He positions Dan. He pulls him, standing, until he's bent over, panties tight over his arse, and Phil reaches around, palms Dan's hard cock until Dan twitches. “Get the fucking condom before I come, Phil,” Dan hisses.

“Stay just like that,” Phil orders. He goes into the kitchen, into the spare assortment of items drawer, grabs the condom, heads back to where Dan's standing. His thighs are perfect, Phil decides, assessing them. Taut muscle and flesh where he's bent over, leading up to Dan's ass, where Phil pulls aside his panties.

He makes sure that Dan's cock stays constrained in the panties though, just pulling them over enough that he can rub the blunt head of his cock over Dan's entrance, pushing him open, spitting on his palm and smearing it over the condom.

“You sure?” Phil asks. Dan rocks backwards, rocks until Phil's pushing into him, and Phil can't stop then, pushes back and sinks inside and it's so goddamn tight. It's the tightest that it's ever been and he should not have been teasing himself all day.

He thrusts hard, helpless. He knocks Dan forward and is so deep inside that Dan lets out a weak, whimpery noise. “Come on,” he groans. “Just like that,” and Phil presses his forehead to Dan's back.

Perfect, it's perfect and tight and Dan's ass is exposed and Phil watches his dick sliding in and out of it, panties pushed aside but he's not going to touch Dan yet, not until he's right about to come because he's kept Dan on edge all day.

Dan's movements become dominant until Phil, even though he's got Dan bent over, stops moving and just watches as Dan pushes and shoves and rocks his hips, taking Phil inch by inch over and over, Phil grabbing at the nape of Dan's hair and releasing and trying desperately not to come.

“Want you to come on me,” Dan pants out. “So close. Haven't even touched myself but I'm gonna come if you don't stop soon.”

Phil can't believe what he's hearing, can't believe he's convincing his brain to stop moving, can't stop himself from pulling out and uttering, “Yeah, okay,” watching Dan drop down instantly.

“So fucked open,” Dan whispers as Phil pulls off the condom and drops it carelessly. “Feel so open.” His naughty talk is going to be the death of Phil.

Phil squeezes his cock, palms it, prays he doesn't come that second. He presses the tip of his cock against Dan's mouth and rubs over it until Dan licks at it wetly.

“So close,” Phil warns him. “Not gonna last long.” He squeezes his eyes shut and then distantly realises how badly he wants to see his come streaking over Dan's hips and ass and forces them back open, gasping at the thought.

“Don't want you to last,” Dan whispers back. “Want you to come.” He opens his mouth, letting Phil drag the tip of his cock there.

“Don't wanna come like this,” Phil manages to bite out. “Bend over again. Wanna come on your panties.” He never knew he could say things like this when he was this undone. He wonders briefly if that's what it is for Dan, if Dan's this undone every time or if he just has that filthy a mouth on him.

He can barely believe that Dan's in panties in front of him. It's surreal. It's something he hasn't seen in two months. It's something he needs to never go this long without again.

Phil sucks on two fingers and presses them rough into Dan and yeah, it's just as hot as ever to see Dan pressing back and taking that without protest, while Phil strokes off with his free hand.

He's not going to last. He's so undone that he's going to be lucky to last half a minute. He focuses on going straight to the spot that makes Dan beg and moan and once he's got it, he's already shuddering, so close.

He curls forward, stomach to Dan's back, and he comes, rutting hard into Dan's ass, and Phil's eyes dart down to see come soaking into Dan's skin and panties and then Dan's suddenly gasping and clenching tight.

Phil hasn't touched him, hasn't jerked him off, just stroked deep inside him where he's sensitive and Dan's never come alone that way before. It's a mess on the couch and Dan's trembling as Phil draws his fingers backs and Phil grabs for Dan's shirt, swipes at the mess.

“You okay?” He asks.

“Cold, really cold suddenly. So much, so good,” Dan answers. He sounds drugged. Phil's heard Dan all drugged up before after surgery and Dan sounds so much like that right now.

He thinks he might have actually destroyed any coherent thoughts Dan might be having. Phil wraps Dan up in his arms and pulls him in tight and he's not cold so he helps Dan into his shirt and sweatpants which are clean, a little too big for Dan, but it stops Dan from shivering, and Phil presses a kiss to the side of Dan's forehead, which is damp from sweat.

“Good?” He asks. Dan tucks himself up against Phil and nods.

“Really good.” He still sounds hazy but he's not shivering anymore. Phil holds Dan for a few minutes and after a couple of minutes, Dan seems to shake awake. “Christ, that was the best sex we've had yet,” Dan murmurs.

“You came just from me coming on you,” Phil breathes out in disbelief.

“Was hot,” Dan defends himself.

“Well, I won't deny that,” Phil tells him. He thinks he loves Dan. He knows he does, actually. They haven't said it yet but he knows he does. He thinks Dan knows it too.

“Let's go to bed,” Dan murmurs. “I'm exhausted.” It's not even nine yet but Phil consents. He lets Dan drag him upstairs and holds Dan while Dan falls asleep. “You're perfect, you know that?” Dan asks after a bit.

Phil goes warm and happy and he kisses Dan's forehead. “I've got you in my arms and you're in nothing but panties and you're telling me I'm perfect?”

Dan yawns. “Too tired to make a cohesive response. Ask me again tomorrow, whatever you're talking about?” He mumbles.

Phil can do that. He can wait until tomorrow. He settles with Dan in his arms.


End file.
